Curses
by Hopeakaarme
Summary: Kamio thinks of Shinji, but Shinji isn't there, and Kirihara is there and licking his lips, licking his lips, licking his lips. Shounen ai KamiKiri, IbuKami.


Disclaimer: I own very little.

A/N: I promised a friend KamiKiri for getting me AtoKaba doujinshi. This is that fic.

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Curses

"You bastard." His grip firm on Kirihara's wrists, Kamio used his entire weight to push the taller boy against the wall. "Don't you dare say that again."

"And what if I do?" Kirihara smirked at him, obviously not afraid in the least. It was quite understandable, really; though their difference in height wasn't that remarkable, Kirihara had quite some advantage in mass, and as they both knew that advantage was all pure muscle. "It's true, anyway. Everyone knows you lowlifes are nothing but troublemakers."

"You're one to speak." Kamio glared at Kirihara through his fringe. "Three demons, eh? Your entire team is made up of demons! Your skills are good for nothing but hurting people."

"I dare you play against Yukimura and say that again." Kirihara licked his lips, staring at Kamio like a cat eyeing a delicious little mouse. As if, the bastard. Kamio wasn't about to become his prey any time soon.

"I don't have to play any of you to know that much." Kamio made a face. "I've seen quite enough of your way of playing. You're insane, the whole lot of you."

"Look who's talking. What about your captain?" Kirihara tensed his hands, and Kamio tensed as well, prepared to fight if Kirihara tried to get free from his grip. "I've heard about him, you know. I heard he blinded someone he played against."

"That's not true." Kamio swallowed. "It's true he hurt someone, but it wasn't on purpose! And he never blinded anyone!"

"Or that's what he tells you, anyway." Kirihara leant forward, not enough to break free but enough that his face was now uncomfortably close to Kamio's face. "I bet he just doesn't want you to know."

"Shut up." Kamio tightened his grip. "Shut up! I don't believe one word!"

"I heard you're learning his techniques now." Kirihara's tongue moved again, left right left right, and it was only with a great effort that Kamio managed to tear his gaze away from it. "Look out before you hurt someone, too – like that mumbling nutcase of yours."

Kirihara's words made Shinji's face flash before Kamio's mind's eye, and for some reason, he felt guilty. What for, he wasn't sure; it wasn't like he was doing anything wrong, he wasn't cheating on Shinji or anything, and why oh why was the accursed Kirihara still licking his lips?

"Oh, believe me," Kamio snarled, "the only one who's going to get hurt are you."

Though too angered to think too closely on it, he could have sworn he heard Kirihara whisper, "As always," before the first punch flew.

He wasn't sure how long they fought, not how many times he was hit nor how many times Kirihara, but at one point he found himself once again holding Kirihara in a tight grip, only this time on the ground. Kirihara tried to struggle but Kamio held on, digging his knee into Kirihara's stomach to make up for his lighter form. Fair fight was certainly too much to ask for under these circumstances; glaring down at his opponent, he was suddenly surprised to find Kirihara smirking.

"You're amusing," Kirihara said. "Never mind your captain, I think you're the most insane one."

Kamio opened his mouth to protest but was left staring, all coherent thoughts escaping his mind as he looked down at Kirihara. There were bruises and blood on Kirihara's face, his hair messed up and clinging to his forehead with sweat, a strange look in his eyes as he stared up at Kamio. And he was licking his lips, licking his lips, licking his lips.

It as the haze of the fight, Kamio assured himself, he wasn't thinking straight at all, but suddenly he found his face just inches from Kirihara's, and then less than that. His lips found Kirihara's, still wet after the busy tongue, and he wasn't sure whether the blood he tasted was his or Kirihara's or both of theirs.

Like he couldn't tell the length of the fight the duration of the kiss also escaped him, any thoughts fleeing from him as he fell prey to the emotions coursing through him. There was the heat of anger and something else, making his blood boil and his skin tingle, and a strange kind of excitement born from the adrenaline and the smell of blood and Kirihara Kirihara.

And then it was away, broken, shattered, all by the one word he heard, one voice.

"Akira?" called out Shinji, then stepped around the corner, and Kamio looked up and found Shinji staring at them. He was lying on top of Kirihara and kissing him, and Shinji was staring at them, and then Shinji turned around and walked away, just like that.

"Ouch." Kirihara smirked as Kamio finally drew away, pale as a sheet. "I think someone's in hot water now."

"Fuck you," muttered Kamio, then shot up to chase after his boyfriend.

"Bet you'd like to," Kirihara called out after him, then started laughing.

Kirihara laughed, he laughed even as Kamio ran after Shinji, cursing as he went, and it wasn't until he was entirely alone that his chuckles turned into half-suppressed sobs.


End file.
